I reached without difficulty the opposite bank, but the steep was
inaccessible. I swam along the edge in hopes of meeting with some
projection or recess where I might, at least, rest my weary limbs, and,
if it were necessary to recross the river, to lay in a stock of
recruited spirits and strength for that purpose. I trusted that the
water would speedily become shoal, or that the steep would afford rest
to my feet. In both these hopes I was disappointed.
There is no one to whom I would yield the superiority in swimming; but
my strength, like that of other human beings, had its limits. My
previous fatigues had been enormous, and my clothes, heavy with
moisture, greatly encumbered and retarded my movements. I had proposed
to free myself from this imprisonment; but I foresaw the inconveniences
of wandering over this scene in absolute nakedness, and was willing
therefore, at whatever hazard, to retain them. I continued to struggle
with the current and to search for the means of scaling the steeps. My
search was fruitless, and I began to meditate the recrossing of the
river.
Surely my fate has never been paralleled! Where was this series of
hardships and perils to end? No sooner was one calamity eluded, than I
was beset by another. I had emerged from abhorred darkness in the heart
of the earth, only to endure the extremities of famine and encounter the
fangs of a wild beast. From these I was delivered only to be thrown into
the midst of savages, to wage an endless and hopeless war with adepts in
killing, with appetites that longed to feast upon my bowels and to quaff
my heart's blood. From these likewise was I rescued, but merely to
perish in the gulfs of the river, to welter on unvisited shores, or to
be washed far away from curiosity or pity.
Formerly water was not only my field of sport but my sofa and my bed. I
could float for hours on its surface, enjoying its delicious cool,
almost without the expense of the slightest motion. It was an element as
fitted for repose as for exercise; but now the buoyant spirit seemed to
have flown. My muscles were shrunk, the air and water were equally
congealed, and my most vehement exertions were requisite to sustain me
on the surface.
At first I had moved along with my wonted celerity and ease, but quickly
my forces were exhausted. My pantings and efforts were augmented, and I
saw that to cross the river again was impracticable. I must continue,
therefore, to search out some accessible spot in the bank along which I
was swimming.
Each moment diminished my stock of strength, and it behooved me to make
good my footing before another minute should escape. I continued to
swim, to survey the bank, and to make ineffectual attempts to grasp the
rock. The shrubs which grew upon it would not uphold me, and the
fragments which, for a moment, inspired me with hope, crumbled away as
soon as they were touched.
At length I noticed a pine which was rooted in a crevice near the water.
The trunk, or any part of the root, was beyond my reach; but I trusted
that I could catch hold of the branch which hung lowest, and that, when
caught, it would assist me in gaining the trunk, and thus deliver me
from the death which could not be otherwise averted.
The attempt was arduous. Had it been made when I first reached the bank,
no difficulty had attended it; but now to throw myself some feet above
the surface could scarcely be expected from one whose utmost efforts
seemed to be demanded to keep him from sinking. Yet this exploit,
arduous as it was, was attempted and accomplished. Happily the twigs
were strong enough to sustain my weight till I caught at other branches
and finally placed myself upon the trunk.
This danger was now past; but I admitted the conviction that others, no
less formidable, remained to be encountered, and that my ultimate
destiny was death. I looked upward. New efforts might enable me to gain
the summit of this steep, but perhaps I should thus be placed merely in
the situation from which I had just been delivered. It was of little
moment whether the scene of my imprisonment was a dungeon not to be
broken, or a summit from which descent was impossible.
The river, indeed, severed me from a road which was level and safe, but
my recent dangers were remembered only to make me shudder at the thought
of incurring them a second time by attempting to cross it. I blush at
the recollection of this cowardice. It was little akin to the spirit
which I had recently displayed. It was, indeed, an alien to my bosom,
and was quickly supplanted by intrepidity and perseverance.
I proceeded to mount the hill. From root to root, and from branch to
branch, lay my journey. It was finished, and I sat down upon the highest
brow to meditate on future trials. No road lay along this side of the
river. It was rugged and sterile, and farms were sparingly dispersed
over it. To reach one of these was now the object of my wishes. I had
not lost the desire of reaching Solesbury before morning, but my wet
clothes and the coldness of the night seemed to have bereaved me of the
power.
I traversed this summit, keeping the river on my right hand. Happily,
its declinations and ascents were by no means difficult, and I was
cheered, in the midst of my vexations, by observing that every mile
brought me nearer to my uncle's dwelling. Meanwhile I anxiously looked
for some tokens of a habitation. These at length presented themselves. A
wild heath, whistled over by October blasts, meagrely adorned with the
dry stalks of scented shrubs and the bald heads of the sapless mullein,
was succeeded by a fenced field and a corn-stack. The dwelling to which
these belonged was eagerly sought.
I was not surprised that all voices were still and all lights
extinguished, for this was the hour of repose. Having reached a piazza
before the house, I paused. Whether, at this drowsy time, to knock for
admission, to alarm the peaceful tenants and take from them the rest
which their daily toils and their rural innocence had made so sweet, or
to retire to what shelter a haystack or barn could afford, was the theme
of my deliberations.
Meanwhile, I looked up at the house. It was the model of cleanliness and
comfort. It was built of wood; but the materials had undergone the
plane, as well as the axe and the saw. It was painted white, and the
windows not only had sashes, but these sashes were supplied, contrary to
custom, with glass. In most cases the aperture where glass should be is
stuffed with an old hat or a petticoat. The door had not only all its
parts entire, but was embellished with mouldings and a pediment. I
gathered from these tokens that this was the abode not only of rural
competence and innocence, but of some beings raised by education and
fortune above the intellectual mediocrity of clowns.
Methought I could claim consanguity with such beings. Not to share their
charity and kindness would be inflicting as well as receiving injury.
The trouble of affording shelter, and warmth, and wholesome diet, to a
wretch destitute as I was, would be eagerly sought by them.
Still, I was unwilling to disturb them. I bethought myself that their
kitchen might be entered, and all that my necessities required be
obtained without interrupting their slumber. I needed nothing but the
warmth which their kitchen-hearth would afford. Stretched upon the
bricks, I might dry my clothes, and perhaps enjoy some unmolested sleep,
in spite of presages of ill and the horrid remembrances of what I had
performed and endured. I believed that nature would afford a short
respite to my cares.
I went to the door of what appeared to be a kitchen. The door was wide
open. This circumstance portended evil. Though it be not customary to
lock or to bolt, it is still less usual to have entrances unclosed. I
entered with suspicious steps, and saw enough to confirm my
apprehensions. Several pieces of wood, half burned, lay in the midst of
the floor. They appeared to have been removed hither from the chimney,
doubtless with a view to set fire to the whole building.
The fire had made some progress on the floor, but had been seasonably
extinguished by pailfuls of water thrown upon it. The floor was still
deluged with wet: the pail, not emptied of all its contents, stood Upon
the hearth. The earthen vessels and plates, whose proper place was the
dresser, were scattered in fragments in all parts of the room. I looked
around me for some one to explain this scene, but no one appeared.
The last spark of fire was put out, so that, had my curiosity been idle,
my purpose could not be accomplished. To retire from this scene, neither
curiosity nor benevolence would permit. That some mortal injury had been
intended was apparent. What greater mischief had befallen, or whether
greater might not, by my interposition, be averted, could only be
ascertained by penetrating farther into the house. I opened a door on
one side which led to the main body of the building and entered to a
bed-chamber. I stood at the entrance and knocked, but no one answered my
signals.
The sky was not totally clouded, so that some light pervaded the room. I
saw that a bed stood in the corner, but whether occupied or not its
curtains hindered me from judging. I stood in suspense a few minutes,
when a motion in the bed showed me that some one was there. I knocked
again, but withdrew to the outside of the door. This roused the sleeper,
who, half groaning, and puffing the air through his nostrils, grumbled
out, in the hoarsest voice that I ever heard, and in a tone of surly
impatience, "Who is there?"
I hesitated for an answer; but the voice instantly continued, in the
manner of one half asleep and enraged at being disturbed, "Is't you,
Peg? Damn ye, stay away, now! I tell ye, stay away, or, by God, I will
cut your throat!--I will!" He continued to mutter and swear, but without
coherence or distinctness.
These were the accents of drunkenness, and denoted a wild and ruffian
life. They were little in unison with the external appearances of the
mansion, and blasted all the hopes I had formed of meeting under this
roof with gentleness and hospitality. To talk with this being, to
attempt to reason him into humanity and soberness, was useless. I was at
a loss in what manner to address him, or whether it was proper to
maintain any parley. Meanwhile, my silence was supplied by the
suggestions of his own distempered fancy. "Ay," said he; "ye will, will
ye? Well, come on; let's see who's the better at the oak stick. If I
part with ye before I have bared your bones!--I'll teach ye to be always
dipping in my dish, ye devil's dam ye."
So saying, he tumbled out of bed. At the first step, he struck his head
against the bedpost, but, setting himself upright, he staggered towards
the spot where I stood. Some new obstacle occurred. He stumbled and fell
at his length upon the floor.
To encounter or expostulate with a man in this state was plainly absurd.
I turned and issued forth, with an aching heart, into the court before
the house. The miseries which a debauched husband or father inflicted
upon all whom their evil destiny allies to him were pictured by my
fancy, and wrung from me tears of anguish, These images, however,
quickly yielded to reflections on my own state. No expedient now
remained but to seek the barn and find a covering and a bed of straw.
I had scarcely set foot within the barnyard when I heard a sound as of
the crying of an infant. It appeared to issue from the barn. I
approached softly and listened at the door. The cries of the babe
continued, but were accompanied by the entreaties of a nurse or a mother
to be quiet. These entreaties were mingled with heart-breaking sobs, and
exclamations of, "Ah, me, my babe! Canst thou not sleep and afford thy
unhappy mother some peace? Thou art cold, and I have not sufficient
warmth to cherish thee! What will become of us? Thy deluded father cares
not if we both perish."
A glimpse of the true nature of the scene seemed to be imparted by these
words. I now likewise recollected incidents that afforded additional
light. Somewhere on this bank of the river there formerly resided one by
name Selby. He was an aged person, who united science and taste to the
simple and laborious habits of a husbandman. He had a son who resided
several years in Europe, but on the death of his father returned home,
accompanied by a wife. He had succeeded to the occupation of the farm,
but rumour had whispered many tales to the disadvantage of his morals.
His wife was affirmed to be of delicate and polished manners, and much
unlike her companion.
It now occurred to me that this was the dwelling of the Selbys, and I
seemed to have gained some insight into the discord and domestic
miseries by which the unhappy lady suffered. This was no time to waste
my sympathy on others. I could benefit her nothing. Selby had probably
returned from a carousal, with all his malignant passions raised into
frenzy by intoxication. He had driven his desolate wife from her bed and
house, and, to shun outrage and violence, she had fled, with her
helpless infant, to the barn. To appease his fury, to console her, to
suggest a remedy for this distress, was not in my power. To have sought
an interview would be merely to excite her terrors and alarm her
delicacy, without contributing to alleviate her calamity. Here, then,
was no asylum for me. A place of rest must be sought at some
neighbouring habitation. It was probable that one would be found at no
great distance: the path that led from the spot where I stood, through a
gate, into a meadow, might conduct me to the nearest dwelling; and this
path I immediately resolved to explore.
I was anxious to open the gate without noise, but I could not succeed.
Some creaking of its hinges was unavoidably produced, which I feared
would be overheard by the lady and multiply her apprehensions and
perplexities. This inconvenience was irremediable. I therefore closed
the gate and pursued the footway before me with the utmost expedition. I
had not gained the farther end of the meadow when I lighted on something
which lay across the path, and which, on being closely inspected,
appeared to be a human body. It was the corpse of a girl, mangled by a
hatchet. Her head, gory and deprived of its locks, easily explained the
kind of enemies by whom she had been assailed. Here was proof that this
quiet and remote habitation had been visited, in their destructive
progress, by the Indians. The girl had been slain by them, and her
scalp, according to their savage custom, had been torn away to be
preserved as a trophy.
The fire which had been kindled on the kitchen-floor tvas now
remembered, and corroborated the inferences which were drawn from this
spectacle. And yet that the mischief had been thus limited, that the
besotted wretch who lay helpless on his bed and careless of impending
danger, and that the mother and her infant, should escape, excited some
degree of surprise. Could the savages have been interrupted in their
work, and obliged to leave their vengeance unfinished?
Their visit had been recent. Many hours had not elapsed since they
prowled about these grounds. Had they wholly disappeared, and meant they
not to return? To what new danger might I be exposed in remaining thus
guideless and destitute of all defence?
In consequence of these reflections, I proceeded with more caution. I
looked with suspicious glances before and on either side of me. I now
approached the fence which, on this side, bounded the meadow. Something
was discerned, or imagined, stretched close to the fence, on the ground,
and filling up the pathway. My apprehensions of a lurking enemy had been
previously awakened, and my fancy instantly figured to itself an armed
man lying on the ground and waiting to assail the unsuspecting
passenger.
At first I was prompted to fly, but a second thought showed me that I
had already approached near enough to be endangered. Notwithstanding my
pause, the form was motionless. The possibility of being misled in my
conjectures was easily supposed. What I saw might be a log, or it might
be another victim to savage ferocity. This track was that which my
safety required me to pursue. To turn aside or go back would be merely
to bewilder myself anew.
Urged by these motives, I went nearer, and at last was close enough to
perceive that the figure was human. He lay upon his face. Near his right
hand was a musket, unclenched. This circumstance, his deathlike
attitude, and the garb and ornaments of an Indian, made me readily
suspect the nature and cause of this catastrophe. Here the invaders had
been encountered and repulsed, and one at least of their number had been
left upon the field.
I was weary of contemplating these rueful objects. Custom, likewise,
even in so short a period, had inured me to spectacles of horror. I was
grown callous and immovable. I stayed not to ponder on the scene, but,
snatching the musket, which was now without an owner, and which might be
indispensable to my defence, I hastened into the wood. On this side the
meadow was skirted by a forest; but a beaten road led into it, and might
therefore be attempted without danger.